Mutate: Psyche & Zap
by NixillUmbreon
Summary: "Victims of recent mutations have exhibited characteristics of Pokémon. Evaluations are held for all victims; those deemed unsafe are moved for imprisonment." Evan Varion had to watch his brother and his best friend both change. He was changing, too...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

Pokemon is copyrighted by Nintendo. Mutate is a concept by pokenutter on deviantART (see link on profile).

Daryl is pokenutter's character; the other named characters are mine.

This story is a collaboration between pokenutter and myself.

* * *

><p>Since Fall had begun to come to a close, life had started throwing curveballs.<p>

So thought Evan Varion as he slipped towards his backyard. An extended curfew, entry into his sophomore year at high school, and the Sandshrew living in his backyard shed were at the forefront of his mind. He approached said shed, and knocked on the door.

"Hey, Daryl. I brought you some food."

Silence for a few seconds, and then, the door opened a crack. A shiny, blue-black eye peered out.

"Not ham again, I hope."

"Nope. Leftover cheeseburger. Thought you might have gotten tired of Thanksgiving leftovers."

Mark, Evan's eight-year-old brother, sighed from the window. "Right," he said to himself. "It was _your_ idea."

A dry-looking, almost scaled hand poked out of the shed. It reached for the bag, and pulled it back inside. Daryl was heard almost immediately tearing into it, eating as fast as he could. When he finished, he turned to Evan. "Thanks. I mean it, thank you."

Evan nodded. "Mhm." He then poked his head inside, nodding at the pile of leaves that had blown in. On rare occasion, someone else would find the shed, and those leaves covered the door to Daryl's safe room. Also blocking the way to it was a concrete slab that Daryl says his claws could cut through. Evan didn't question it; a Sandshrew _did_ have sharp claws. Other than the pile of leaves being kept in there, the shed did look normal for a mostly-abandoned shed.

Mark, who had walked away from the window while Daryl ate, ran back to it. "Someone's coming!"

A snapping of a twig some twenty yards away confirmed this sentence. Daryl began to try to squeeze himself into the corner with the highest amount of darkness. Noting after a few minutes that he was making more noise than he had been before, he simply stopped moving, frozen in place.

Silence fell for another few seconds, followed by perhaps one of the loudest and most unusual sounds any of them had ever heard. A purple flash, coupled with a cry of pain, punctuated this sudden interruption. For whatever reason, this particular part caused Evan to flinch. He knew that voice- it sounded a lot like a friend of his, Nick.

A blast of wind, and a brief moment of quiet. Then, the lights in the neighborhood started to flicker on.

"Evan? You okay?" asked Mark. "You're-"

"I gotta go," Evan said suddenly. "Daryl, stay hidden. Mark, bed."

"But-"

"NOW!"

Daryl poked his head out of the door. "Wait, where are you going?"

Too late. Evan was already darting towards the source of the sound. Daryl sighed, and began to follow, quietly enough so that Evan might not hear him, but quickly enough so that he wouldn't lose sight of him.

Evan suddenly stopped as he turned the corner, gasping and wincing from the slight pain he felt somehow.

In front of him was a boy about his age, bright red hair marking his face-hair that was quickly turning pink. Evan recognized him as Nick, a close friend of his. As the spreading color change reached his hairline, it appeared to stop for a moment- before extending the hairline. Before too long, the boy's entire head was coated in what could at this point only be described as fur. Before the fur began to spread down his neck, however, Nick began to cry out, as if in pain- and no wonder! With a tremendous cracking sound, his skull visibly reshaped itself, his face transmogrified into what looked like a snout.

The hair continued across most of his body. Small spasms coupled with an occasional grunt indicated that this was not a painless process. A finger on each hand atrophied and dropped off, followed by a shout as his hips dislocated. Evan winced again, the pain through the link getting stronger as psychic abilities strengthened Nick's link with him. The pain only seemed to increase as a tail broke its way out of Nick's lower back. The final change, however, seemed to be at least a bit less painful, but still unnatural enough that it still sent chills through both witnesses- Nick's ankles shifted, pulling his feet towards a digitigrade position. Evan shuddered, feeling it clearly as the link reached its peak.

Once Evan was sure it was finished, he cautiously reached towards him, but thought better of it; some Mutates had lost their minds after transforming, if he remembered correctly from that notice.

"Nick?" he said lightly. The Mutate in question looked dully at Evan.

_Don't call me that,_ a voice suddenly sounded in Evan's head. _Please._

"Huh?"

_A "mutate". It makes me seem… inhuman._

"Sorry…"

Daryl watched Evan, and raised an eyebrow. "Um, Evan? Who are you talking to?"

"I'm talking to-" Evan began, only to be cut off by Nick.

"Sorry… I must have been using telepathy without realizing it…" He said that as though it was perfectly normal, a sentence to which Evan just chuckled.

_Can you hear this?_ Evan asked curiously. Nick nodded.

"So it goes both ways," they said at the same time.

"What will you do now?" Daryl asked.

"It's probably risky," Nick said, "but I'm going to try going back to my family…"

"If they don't accept you…" Evan began, but Nick knew what he was going to suggest and interrupted him.

"No, it's okay Evan, you don't need to do that." Nick sighed. "Honestly, I'm not sure what I'd do… I don't want to inconvenience you like that…"

Evan was about to protest but nodded when he heard the real reason. "I see… You're probably right, Nick."

"See ya around, pal. Tell Mark I said hi."

"Will do!"

With that, the area around Nick began to glow a purplish tint. A blast of wind, coupled with the same weird sound as before announced his abrupt departure.

Daryl turned to Evan, and nodded. "Well, he seems to be adapting well. Then again, he didn't have his skin flayed off in the process..."

Evan nodded, remembering what Daryl's mutation had looked like. It was not pretty. He shuddered at the thought. Then he thought of something else.

"Why are you out here?" he asked. "What if someone sees you?"

"Hey, relax. I wasn't about to let you run off chasing... whatever you thought that Mew was. Besides, it's night out. What are the odds of that happening?"

"If you have to ask, pretty high," Evan said, taking a cautious look around. "Let's just go back."

Daryl took a second to make sure that nobody was watching, and slipped back to the shed as quietly as he could. He was almost the whole way back to the shed, when suddenly, he heard a car door slam. Quickly, he ducked below the fence, and listened as hard as he could.

The sound of the front door opening was followed by a murmured conversation which he could barely hear. Evan, meanwhile, had kneeled down next to him, listening just as hard.

"Hello."

"Ma'am... Mutate sighting... purple... investigate..."

"Well... none... my family..."

The next sentence came through quite clearly.

"Ma'am, we have a warrant."

The four words Evan was dreading. He knew just as well as Daryl did what they were looking for: A purple 'mutate'. Nick.

It was worse, though, because, if they weren't careful these guys would find Daryl.

Evan growled-and the growl sounded quite animalistic, but nobody seemed to notice-and signaled for Daryl to hide. They'd gone over this many times before, at least once a week. In fact, the intense practice had paid off once already. They had come looking for Daryl, and he was nowhere to be found. Now it was time for that practice to pay off again.

Daryl began to crawl as slowly and stealthily as he could towards the shed. He got around halfway across the yard before he suddenly turned.

"Wait! This is too convenient. That Mew was here just a few seconds ago. They shouldn't have gotten here so fast."

"What are you saying?"

"There's a chance that they may have been waiting for an opportunity like this."

"But then why would they have a warrant?"

"To investigate the property. They've been informed of a Mutate in the area. They don't know what manner of Mutate is hiding here, but they've heard rumors. They haven't found me before, but-"

He quickly rolled to the side, seeing someone come close to the back door. He turned back to Evan.

"-your friend's transformation and teleportation have left them with no doubts. They're sure now that..."

He trailed off, and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you alright? You look a bit pale."

Evan, who was scratching his itching arm, was about to answer when he heard a scream from within the house. He ran faster than Daryl had ever seen him run, and the Sandshrew could have sworn he saw a flash of yellow in Evan's hair. He made it to Mark's room first and gagged at what he saw.

Mark was rolled up in a ball on the ground, sobbing slightly as he watched brown fur crawl down his chest.

"No... stop..."

"Mark!" Evan yelped. First his closest friend, and now his brother?

But there was nothing he could do. He could only watch as his younger brother's skull reworked itself into a distinctly canine shape, followed by the arrival of a tail. The young boy's cries reached a crescendo as his ankles shifted- followed by absolute silence as he fell unconscious.

He looked sadly at the now-knocked-out Eevee morph on the floor in front of him. He was certain that it was an Eevee. The cream mane contrasting his brown face fur and his black-nosed muzzle made him sure.

He growled, determining that the government would not get a hold of Mark if stopping them was the last thing Evan did.

Daryl, meanwhile, had slipped away. Evan was his friend, and he couldn't endanger him here any longer. He just had to get off the property, and find a nice forested area somewhere, where he could hide for a while. All he had to do was-

Aw, crap. He had rounded a corner, and walked straight into a large group of people. It seemed that whoever had come with a warrant had brought reinforcements. Armed reinforcements.

There was no way to fight this number of people, even if they were unarmed. He held his hands up in surrender.

"My name is Daryl Smith. I surrender."

_Okay, fate, _he thought to himself. _You've made your point._

Evan noticed this. _I hope they leave us alone,_ he thought. _I'm sorry, Daryl..._

Evan looked down at Mike and lifted him onto his bed, tucking him in under the covers. "Good night, Mark..."

From the front door, he heard the sound of conversation. Being closer to the source than he had been before, he could make out conversation a lot more clearly now.

"-found this one on your driveway. Are you trying to tell us that you had no idea he was there?"

"Yes! In this house, we don't harbor Mutates!"

"And yet, here he is. Just around the time we started looking for them. We came here looking for a different Mutate, but we found this one. I wonder, are you hiding more than just him?"

"We don't know-"

Evan's father was cut off by the sounds of heavy boots beginning to spread through the house.

Evan suddenly gasped and ran into the house. _Mark!_ He still didn't realize he was using his increased speed, and made it to the room first- past a couple guards.

As he ran past, he noticed that the guards seemed to slow down. Suddenly, one of them grabbed his walky-talky.

"I've got one here. Looks to be mutating as we speak. Everyone, get to the second floor, back corner. Be ready for a fight, this one looks like an electric-type."

Um, what?

No time to worry about whatever delusions they were suffering. He had to protect his brother!

The first thing he did upon entry was to close the door. It wouldn't help in the long run, but it would give him two extra seconds or so to prepare...


	2. Chapter 2

_No time to worry about whatever delusions they were suffering. He had to protect his brother!_

_The first thing he did upon entry was to close the door. It wouldn't help in the long run, but it would give him two extra seconds or so to prepare..._

He ran over to his brother and turned around, only to come to a realization: He couldn't think of any moves! _...Wait, moves? What am I talking about?_

Well, he couldn't just stand around and let his mind wander. Mark had a short sword somewhere in here...

The short katana had been a gift from their parents around six months ago. Mark had wanted to learn swordplay, and their parents had bought it for his eighth birthday, on the condition that Evan supervised him, and made sure he didn't hurt himself. Evan had practiced some rudimentary lessons when Mark wasn't using it, and had a reasonable level of skill with it.

There! Poking out from behind his closet door. He stepped over, and drew the sword from its overly-large sheath. The blade had a special covering over the blade that stopped it from being able to cut anything easily. It could be removed easily enough, however. He did so, and stood at a ready position.

The door flew open, and in came the guard that had apparently been seeing things, followed by backup. The first guard didn't hesitate and pulled out a tranquilizer gun, pointing it at Evan. Time seemed to slow down as the guard fired, and Evan ducked as the dart flew over his head, embedding itself in the wall behind him.

Evan didn't hesitate-he saw his chance and used the sword to knock the gun out of the man's hand, being careful not to hurt the guard.

It was then that the lead guard noticed Mark, still asleep in his bed. He pointed back at one of the others, then waved his finger forwards, and the second guard entered the room, attempting to bypass Evan.

Evan didn't like that, and he dropped his sword, ran at the guard, and tackled him, holding on with both of his arms. "DON'T! HURT! MY! BROTHER!" he shouted, each word accompanied by a punch. After that, he put both his hands on the guard's back for a brief moment's rest. Then, he felt a sudden prick in his back and his hands glowed for a moment, a loud _ZAP!_ echoing through the room, paired with a loud, pained yell from the man he was atop.

Evan stared at his hands in amazement, giving the guards the opportunity they had been looking for-a tranquilizer dart was fired into his back. He couldn't fight it, and was flooded with worry for Mark until he blacked out.

His head hurt like hell.

He wasn't aware of much else, only that his head was throbbing. He had been trying to... do something. He was having trouble remembering what. Something to do with Mark...

Mark!

In spite of his headache, he opened his eyes, and hopped to his feet- and then immediately tottered backwards as his foot caught on something. He steadied himself, and realized that he didn't know exactly where he was. It looked like a hospital, but it didn't seem large enough. In addition, the beds didn't seem like typical hospital fare- more for comfort than anything else.

He held his head in his hands. He had failed his little brother. Mark could be anywhere now. What were the odds of...

Did they put something on his head? It felt like his hands were touching rabbit ears, or some such silly headgear. Whatever it was, it was silly to just leave it there, so he tried to pull them off.

"Gah! Son of a...!"

Were they glued there? That didn't feel like glue...

Nervously, he began to poke them. There was definitely some tactile feedback...

With a mounting panic, he began to search for a mirror. There had to be some sort of reflective surface somewhere here...

Aha! It looked like someone had left behind some unattended dental tools. ...What sort of hospital was this? Seriously, who leaves random dental tools just lying around? Nevertheless, he picked the small mirror up, and looked at his reflection.

"No..."

The Jolteon Mutate in the mirror mimicked the movement of his lips. For the first time, he actually bothered to take a good hard look at his hands. Yellow fur completely coated them. And... yes, apparently his hands were tougher in the spots you'd see pads on a cat or dog.

He began to try and remember what had happened. He had been tranked, yes, but what about before that? Wait... Hadn't he been tazed, too? Why hadn't that brought him down?

Then it clicked. Jolteon, the Lightning Pokémon, was a pure Electric-type with the ability Volt Absorb.

_Volt Absorb... Healing by electricity... It makes sense! After all, the way a taser works is by overloading its target's nervous system with electricity, locking up his/her body. But instead of being harmed, I must have been mutated enough that I had my ability, and it kicked in and only powered me up!_ He was excited that he had figured it out, but his grin fell quickly.

_Mutated..._ Acceptance flooded into him. _I've mutated... I'm not going home, am I...?_ He fell to his hands and knees, head hung low, and started to cry. _Not only that, but I've already pretty much blown my only chance at getting out... No doubt they only think of me as a monster now..._

He glanced up as he heard a knock at the window, cringing and growling as he recognized the guard he'd attacked.

The one that had been sent in to take Mark.

"Where's my brother," he growled, too angry to notice that his voice had changed a bit.

"So, those sandstorms you seem to generate randomly appear to be harmless. Overall, your mental and physical exams have come up positive. Do you have anything to say, Mark?"

Mark shrugged. "I just want to know where my brother is. You said that he was here, right?"

"You'll be able to see him if he passes his exams."

"What if he doesn't?"

The Mutate examiner shook his head. "If he fails either one, we will hold him here until we can figure out exactly how dangerous he is."

Mark nodded. "In that case, he'll be fine. Maybe he'll just end up with sand clouds like me."

The examiner cleared his throat. "Ah. Yes. Maybe."

Silence for a few moments, and then a knock came from a nearby door. The examiner seemed surprised, and rose to look through a small peephole. He sighed, and opened the door to reveal a young man in his mid-twenties.

"This isn't the time."

"This kid and his brother mutated within minutes of each other. We might be able to figure something out here."

"A pattern in the mutations?" the examiner asked. He wasn't always kept up-to-date about the science behind them. It was only his job to examine them.

"Yes. If we can figure out a genetic reason for the mutations, then we might be able to predict when and where Mutates will appear. I just want to ask him few questions."

Now Mark was curious. "Can I ask you some too?"

"That depends on the question. I'll do my best to answer, but even we don't know a lot about you guys. Do you want to go first, or should I?"

He suddenly felt uncomfortable, glancing between the scientist and examiner. "Uhh..."

"Would you prefer if we went somewhere else for this?"

Mark nodded.

"Alright. Follow me."

The two of them left the room, taking a few rights, a left, and then into a different room. This one looked like an office.

The scientist pulled up a chair for Mark, and he sat down behind the desk. Mark sat in the chair pulled out for him.

"What's your name?" Mark asked, breaking the silence.

"You can call me Tom. Based on what I've got here, your name is Mark, right?"

Mark nodded. "Yep!"

"How about this: I'll ask a question, and you answer it, then you can ask me a question, okay? Or would you like to start?"

"You can go first."

"Hmm... Did you notice anything unusual before transforming? Any unusual feelings, or mood swings?"

"I felt... Really hyper for some reason."

Tom jotted down some notes, and nodded. "It isn't uncommon for that to happen. Hyperactivity is something that's popped up once or twice. So, your question, then?"

"Have there been any other cases of siblings?" Mark asked.

"...So far, I do not think so. There may have been in other countries, but they don't tell us that."

"So there-" Mark began, before realizing it was no longer his turn.

Tom smiled. "We can break the order, if you feel it's necessary."

Mark smiled and shook his head politely.

"All right, then. Do you have any cousins, or other similar relatives? If so, have any of them mutated to your knowledge?"

Mark shook his head. As far as he knew, nobody else was related to him like that.

Tom scribbled something down on a notebook, and nodded. "Right. Your next question, then?"

"If Evan doesn't pass his exam... What exactly happens?"

Tom sighed. "He'd stay here. I don't know for how long. They're saying they'll eventually let him go." He sighed again. "But... The system isn't exactly fair. I know it's a lot to dump on you"-Mark whimpered as though to prove his point-"but it wouldn't help at this point to be dishonest. Now, I have a few more questions for you." Mark nodded. "You and your brother both ended up as Mutates from the same evolutionary line."

"Correct."

"Something like that doesn't seem to be a coincidence. And that friend of yours-Derry? Daniel-?"

"Daryl," Mark interrupted.

"Sorry about that. Daryl- he ended up a Sandshrew, and based on the fact that he was hanging around your house that night, geography has little to no influence o-"

"He didn't mutate there. We-Evan found him near the bus stop across the street from his school. And Evan and I are brothers, so I believe that's why he and I are the same line." Then Mark realized something, and quickly added, "Sorry for interrupting."

"No, that actually helps. I'm trying to figure out if the mutations are genetically influenced. Thinking like that actually adds to any theories I currently have. Did Daryl ever say when or where he mutated or anything about the experience? He wouldn't talk to me."

"He's been quiet towards me, too. Evan would probably know."

"Hmm... Do you need to know anything else?"

"What's happening to Evan right now...?"

6


	3. Chapter 3

"_What's happening to Evan right now...?" Mike asked_

"_Where's my brother," Evan growled, too angry to notice that his voice had changed a bit._

From a nearby hallway, Evan began to hear voices, coupled with footsteps. He turned towards the door of the room, and saw a pair of figures approaching. One was armed, the other held nothing but a briefcase. As the two entered the room, the briefcase-wielding figure beckoned.

"Evan Varion, please come with us."

Evan was hesitant.

"Where is my little brother?"

"Safe."

He didn't move or answer for a couple seconds, instead staring-glaring?-at the man. It was long enough that the guard made to grab Evan, but he noticed and calmly said "I'll cooperate. But I'm expecting to see him after we finish."

With a hint of sadness in his voice, he added, "Please don't ruin that expectation."

The briefcase-wielder nodded. "We will try."

Meh. This mental examination was among the most boring tests he'd ever taken. It would help if his examiner spoke with even a hint of emotion.

"And what do you see here, Evan?"

Evan barely glanced at the Rorschach test, before answering, "There's a tree on each side."

"What else?"

Evan's patience was wearing thin. "Come on. How much longer before I get to see Mark?"

"I keep telling you, Evan. When we finish with your mental and physical exams. After that, we'll let the two of you see each other."

"Promise?" Evan asked, looking up hopefully at the examiner, tears in his eyes.

"Promise," said the examiner. Evan noticed that he did take down a note as he said this, but thought nothing of it.

The examiner seemed lost in thought for a moment, and then pulled out a small booklet.

"If you could, fill this out, please. It's a mandatory IQ test. If you would like, I could leave the room..."

"No, it's fine," he said as he started filling it out. About halfway through the test he suddenly stopped, thoroughly stumped by one of the questions, and apparently quite surprised that he was. "I'm allowed to skip and come back, right?"

"Yes."

Evan nodded and left the question blank. A few questions later he muttered "Oh! Of course!" and filled in an answer to the one he had left blank.

It was about eighteen minutes later that he finished the test. The examiner took the booklet, nodded, and said, "Thank you. You will be escorted to your physical in just a second."

As the examiner turned to leave, he grabbed another employee on the way out.

"I have his results here. Triple-check these, we might have a possible Blue here."

The employee nodded, and dashed away with the files.

"Blue?" Evan asked.

The examiner realized that Evan had heard, and turned around slowly. "Um, it's nothing. Uh, goodbye, Evan."

With that, he dashed out the door.

Evan's physical had been just slightly less boring than the mental. It was essentially a glorified doctor's visit. They had taken some blood-there was nearly a struggle over that-and fur samples. Then, they had sent him back to the waiting room. He had anxiously waited for what felt like hours. Eventually, however, they had finally sent someone down.

Two people, in fact. They were chatting with each other, and the smaller, who wasn't looking where they were going, appeared to be a mu...

"MARK!" Evan nearly _barked_ happily. Mark looked up, smiled, and ran over to Evan, hugging him tightly as though this was the last time they would ever see each other.

As far as Evan knew, it was.

"Evan?" Tom asked, causing the Jolteon mutate in question to cringe.

"Yes...?" he slowly asked.

"Can I ask a few questions? Mark can tag along too."

Evan smiled and nodded, pulling Mark off of him so they could walk.

While they were walking, Evan looked up at Tom.

"You already know my name... What's yours?"

"Call me Tom."

Evan nodded. "I have some questions of my own, is that okay?"

"Sure! We can take turns."

"Okay!"

They arrived at the same room Tom and Mark just came from. This time, Tom closed the door.

"You first, Tom."

"Alright. Before I start- Mark. Do you mind if I share your answers with Evan?

Mark shook his head. He did not mind.

"Okay. Evan, Mark reported a feeling of hyperactivity prior to mutating. Did you feel any unusual feelings or mood swings?"

"I actually didn't feel anything at all. Now that I think about it, I did seem a bit fast-and I mean physically-but I think I was knocked out before the worst of it." Evan guessed what Tom was going to ask next and added "And I'd rather not discuss what happened with Mark here."

"I see... Alright, your question?"

"Hmm... Any other sibling duos, like Mark and me?"

"No, not in the US. Other countries, maybe. I don't know. So anyway, your friend-"

"Daryl." Mark interrupted before Tom could screw up the name again.

"Daryl, yes. What do you know about his Mutation?"

"I assume Mark couldn't tell you much..." Evan said as he looked at Mark, who nodded. "It took place after school. I know Daryl because we both take the city bus to get home. Daryl's final class is gym, and-and I'm just going from what he told me-his skin felt really dry even after he finished his shower, but he was afraid to tell anyone, and when he was getting out of the bus, he collapsed to the ground, and I got off the bus just before the doors closed (the driver, already being late, didn't stay to make sure Daryl was fine." Evan proceeded to tell Tom and Mark what he saw, in as much detail as he could, but only the first two seconds of it or so before Mark interrupted asking Evan to stop. Evan nodded and stopped.

"Alright. Do you know how far away from you Daryl lives?"

"He gets off 27 stops-about 4 and a half miles-before I do, but then I catch a second bus and go 13 stops-two miles. And yes, I counted the stops." Mark giggled at that.

"I see. And what about the school that he goes to- I'm assuming you attend the same school?"

"Mhm."

"How far away from your house is it?"

"I've never tried to keep track," Evan realized. "When I counted stops, I got a total of 54 stops along the two routes." He did some math in his head. "Nine miles."

"Hm... sounds like geography could play a small part in it... Anyway, your next question, then?"

"What happens if I fail either exam?"

_I know I will..._ he thought to himself. _Jolteon can clump its fur together into needle-like forms... If I gained that ability, that could be dangerous..._

"If you fail, then you'll be held here. I'm not too sure how long it will be. Mark passed both, but if you fail, I can push for the two of you to be held here together, but I don't know how well that'll go.

"I have one more question- one that is completely off the record. It may end up being a question the two of you won't want to answer, and I won't force you to. Do you want to hear the question?"

"Yes?" asked Evan.

Tom's voice became hushed. "That night, there were reports of a purple light on your property. Do you know what that was?"

Evan sighed. _Nick... Can you hear me?_ "You won't tell anyone, correct?" he whispered.

"It's just a curiosity of mine. I can promise that any secret you tell will stay with me."

_Yeah, I hear you. And vice versa?_

_Yep._

"Evan?" Mark asked, causing the Jolteon to realize the silence in the room.

"Yes, I know what that was... It involves our cousin."

"We have a cousin?" a surprised Mark asked.

"Mhm. Didn't I ever tell you Nick's-"

_Mew,_ he telepathically corrected.

_What?_

_I've given up trying to live as a human. I'm just too different. But don't call me a Mutate. I would rather not be associated with those freaks in the first place._

Evan stared ahead silently. That had hurt more than the realization that he had mutated in the first place.

"Yes?" Tom asked.

"Huh?" Evan asked as he realized he had been staring. "O-oh... Sorry..."

_You don't know yet, do you?_ Evan asked.

_Know what?_

_Mark and I mutated._

This time Nick was silent. Then: _I'm sorry..._

_Until I saw Daryl, I agreed with you, actually. And I'm still calling you Nick here. I don't want you getting captured._

Evan could have sworn he heard a laugh from Nick, or Mew as he apparently wanted to be called now.

_Tell them what you want. It'll take more than that to catch me!_

Evan sighed. "Typical of him."

Mark was confused, and said nothing. Tom, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow. "Are you alright? You've just been kind of sitting there, muttering to yourself."

"I just got permission to explain, so I'll take it from the top. Yes, Mark, we do have a cousin. His name is Nick... or it used to be. He was the cause of the purple light you asked about, Tom." Evan sttopped to take a breath. "He transformed into a Mew hybrid, and detests the term 'Mutate'. He doesn't want to be associated with the other Mutates, or 'freaks,' as he described them before I had to kindly remind him of Mark's and my own mutations."

"Lucky!" Mark said suddenly.

Evan nodded and continued his explanation, after explaining Mew's transformation.

"A Mew? I had guessed that you were using telepathy of some sort, but I assumed an Espeon."

"The weirdest part is that I felt the changes too… The feelings got stronger as it progressed."

"Some sort of psychic link, then?"

"Mhm. Also, did you know that Sandshrew, Eevee, Jolteon, and Mew were all introduced in the same generation of Pokémon?"

"Yeah, I've actually played the games since I was half your age. So, do you have any more questions for me?"

"Yeah, actually." Evan looked at Mark. "I'd like to ask this one alone, please. Could you wait just outside?" He looked at Tom. "If that's okay with you?"

"Perfectly fine."

"Okay, Evan..." Mark said, hugging him once more, but once Evan pulled him off, he walked out of the room, slumping down by the door, which Evan closed behind him.

"After my IQ exam, the examiner said something about a possible Blue. What does that mean?"

"The people who work in the psych department use all kinds of code words for different personality types. I've met Tigers, Waffles, and even Oranges, but I've never heard the term 'Blue' passed around. I'm just as baffled as you are."

Evan sighed. "Oh well, it was worth a shot. You have anything more for me?"

"Not really. Just wish your Mew friend well for me, alright?"

Evan sighed. "I do have one more question."

"Ask away."

"When they came for me and Mark, I must have been in the middle of mutating, but I was trying to keep Mark safe."

"That's what they told me. Did something happen that they didn't mention?"

"Quite possibly. When one of the men entered the room, I tackled him to the floor, and punched him a few times. (In retrospect, probably a bad idea, but that's not the point). I took a moment's pause, and the person behind me used the opportunity to shoot me with a taser."

"I heard about that. And then you zapped him, right?"

"Mhm. I could feel the electricity course through my body–I'm guessing to where my body stores energy–and then I felt it travel upwards through my body to my hands… But the strangest part is that the only part that hurt was the prick of the taser barbs."

"Most Mutates have one innate attack move at their disposal. We have one downstairs who can use Poison Tail in the same tank as one who can use Crush Claw. Honestly, those two in the same tank isn't an optimal match..."

"...And _why_ exactly doesn't the guy in charge of assigning tanks have access to a Pokédex?" Evan laughed. "They're a Seviper and Zangoose, right?"

"Yeah. The weird thing is, they collaborate some decent escape plans, and have almost gotten away from us two or three times. I do honestly hope they get out sometime soon...

"Anyway, tanks are assigned solely by the order in which Mutates arrive here. That's the only determining factor."

"I see... And… uh… I guess I'm out of questions."

"I as well. About now, they ought to be ready with your results. I hope you don't take it the wrong way when I say I hope to never see either of you again."

"I know what you mean. I hope I don't have to see you again either…" Evan said, forcing a smile.

_Time to get this over with…_ Evan sighed inaudibly.

_Get what over with?_

_The results of my exams… No doubt I failed at least one of them…_

_Exams?_

…_You're lucky to be free, Mew._

_Mew, _he corrected.

_Huh? I thought–_

_Yes, I know. But there's simply nothing left from my human life to go back to now… I guess I've accepted what happened…_

_Family?_

_Threatened to turn me in if I took one step closer. There's always you and Mark…_

_Captured._

_Is that what you meant by exams?_

_Mhm. If I'm deemed sane and safe, I can return to society. Same applies to Mark._

_Need–_

_Don't even think there, Mew. I don't want you anywhere near this place._

_Well… If you say so…_

_I do say so._

_I'll be listening if you change your decision._

Evan sighed. This would be a long stay…

"Evan Varion?"

Evan looked up from the floor. They'd reached the lobby already? He hadn't notice.

"Yeah?"

"Here are your results..."

8


	4. Chapter 4

It was ten minutes later that the brothers found themselves being lowered down into a tank on a winch-powered lift. Whichever committee had passed judgement had found him sane, but had taken issue with a way his hairs could work–when clumped together, they reacted to subtle electrical signals, and formed spikes, something he didn't even know how to do. They had said something about the electrical signals being similar to signals emitted by brain activity, and apperently, that was enough.

Mark reacted violently to that news. As he demonstrated, he knew the move Bite–or was it Crunch?–and this raised concern with the evaluators. Mark's previous evaluation was invalidated, and he was deemed unsafe. After all, no human would bite as the first line of defense.

He had tried to find out what the Blue personality type was, but had been informed that he didn't need to know, and that it was no longer a concern for him. It still bugged him; something didn't seem right.

Tom had actually come through for them in the end, though; they were allowed to stay in the same tank. Daryl had to be moved one over, but based on how he looked when they had briefly seen him, he seemed glad to be one more tank away from his neighbor.

Evan and Mark were both silent the entire way there. Evan's fur bristled a little as he saw the tank they had to be in, but he knew there was nothing to be done. He couldn't even remember how to use… whatever that move was. Was it even a real move?

Mark briefly glanced at the trail of sand that had been left behind. Sand-attack, while harmless outside of battle, was still an annoying move to be hit with. Mark knew that from experience.

Evan noticed Mark glance and followed his little brother's sight, chuckling silently. _I'll never understand how Sand-Attack works,_ he thought to himself.

The lift came to a stop about thirty seconds down, and Mark was glad to finally be off the thing. To the immediate left of the tank, he saw Daryl getting off of a similar lift, and waving to Evan. To their front were a few forms, both asleep in spite of the time of day- a Slaking and Snorlax. The one behind them was empty, and to their right, they saw their neighbors. One of them stood- a Bayleef, by the looks of her- and motioned for them to come to the edge of the glass.

Mark came over, and was surprised to hear her whisper, "Sit down, look like you're doing nothing."

Mark nodded, slightly confused. These things weren't soundproof? As he sat down, he heard her whisper, "Thank God they got rid of the other guy. I got the sense he didn't like me very much. That's alright, I wasn't too fond of him, either."

"How are we talking?" he whispered, still intrigued that they could hear each other.

"The glass is designed to be soundproof past a certain point- a point the engineers of this room forgot about. We're allowed to talk, but I don't want to arouse any suspicions from the guards. My roommate ended up incurring some severe legal penalties last week during an escape attempt."

She motioned to her companion, a sorry-looking wreck of a Victreebell morph. Mark was sure he hadn't seen more concentrated nightmare fuel in any one place.

"She tried overriding the locks, but wouldn't leave without everyone else. She was caught the next morning."

"Oh. So, we can't get out?"

"Well, we should be able to; it's not like this is Alcatraz- oh, wait, you might not get that one. Never mind. But basically, there are a bunch of us who think escape is very possible, but to get the best idea of how well-defended this place is, look no further than the tank up one and left one of your tank."

"What?"

"In front of that Sandshrew guy. That tank."

Her statement was punctuated by a loud _THUNK!_ sound effect from a nearby tank.

Evan, who had been trying to get some sleep, jumped and looked up.

A Zangoose had just been tossed against the wall of her tank. Her assailant, a Seviper, had his bladed tail against her cheek. He said something, but it was impossible to tell exactly what- the sound was heavily muted.

From behind, it was impossible to tell exactly if she replied- at first it was only apparent that she had moved her jaw. Then, she darted to the side, and rolled into him. The two tumbled into a wall, the Zangoose on top. They stood perfectly still, exchanging some brief inaudible dialogue, before the Seviper coiled his tail around her, and squeezed, knocking the wind out of her. This was just enough of a distraction to roll on top of her.

As the fight went on, the Bayleef leaned closer to the glass.

"Fifteen on Martha."

"What?"

"The Zangoose is Martha. The Seviper is James. Those two fight like this all the time. It's become fairly common practice around here to gamble on their fights."

"I'm eight!"

"Yeah, and I'm nineteen. None of us are legally allowed to gamble; that is, those of us who do. Martha has a slightly better record, so I'm gambling on her. If we ever get out of here, the loser pays the winner. Interested?"

"What are you guys talking about?" asked Evan, who had been staring at the two for a bit before inferring that the glass wasn't completely soundproof. The Jolteon morph walked over to the glass.

"Those two," Mark said, pointing at the two fighters.

"I was just betting–"

"Betting?"

She repeated what she had told Mark. "Anyway, I said fifteen on Martha."

"I'll go–" Mark began.

"For neither," Evan finished for Mark. "You have no way to pay if you lose and we do get out."

The Bayleef shrugged. "Eh, it's up to you... To be honest, though, this fight'll probably be over soon, anyway."

"Huh?" Evan asked, looking back up at the two that had been battling for a while now.

"Either they'll get tired, or someone'll come in to break them up. Usually, it's the former, but we had one instance where Martha almost beat James to death. All bets were off after that one…"

"What over?"

"They never say. The loser generally doesn't want to talk about it, and the winner is too busy recovering. It's always something different, however–we've occasionally heard snippets when they were particularly loud. Anyway, just watch for a while- each fight is slightly different. Last fight, Martha focused on rabbit punches, and the fight before that, James was big on slow but effective defense, which won him that fight."

Evan was silent for a moment, then spoke up. "You guys have some twisted views on entertainment."

"It's either this or sixteen hours of guys standing around with guns. Take your pick."

"What, no training?" asked Mark.

"What application would that have? If they eventually release us, why would we need to fight? Breaking out is near impossible–as unlikely as it seems, those two buffoons are actually decent escape artists, when they work together. They're still here, so what are the chances of us forcing our way out?"

At this point, Evan receded from the glass. He was thinking hard to himself, and a certain Mew noticed, but said nothing.

"He okay?" asked the Bayleef.

"Yeah, just thinking to himself." Mark replied.

Evan suddenly looked at the top of the tank. Then he frowned, and looked at the bottom and smiled, nodding once to himself before going back to just thinking.

"About what?"

Mark shrugged. "I'll be surprised if I know anytime soon. Could be anything."

"Hey, when's food get here?" Evan asked, Mark relaying the question as Evan came over to the glass.

"Around 6:30. Why, you hungry?"

"Famished. What sort of food do they usually serve here?" Evan glanced at the clock. It was about 4.

"Well, the FDA said it was safe for consumption. That's about the only compliment it's ever gotten."

"I'll take whatever they've got- I haven't eaten in days."

The Bayleef nodded. "I hear ya. You two seem like better neighbors than that Sandshrew. I'm Helen. You are?"

"Evan," the Jolteon said.

"Mark," the Eevee added.

"Alright. Nice to meet the two of you."

"Nice to meet you too!" They said at the same time.

_So who won?_ asked Mew in Evan's head, referring to James and Martha; while he was thinking, Evan had mentioned to himself that the two were fighting, and Mew had heard.

Evan glanced across at their cage, having completely forgotten about the brawl occurring some thirty feet away. Both fighters looked pretty worn out, but James had a grin on his face. Evan chuckled.

_The Seviper,_ was Evan's reply.

Some two days later, another Mutate was being lowered into a tank.

She hadn't come quietly, though. Everyone in the facility had watched her be lowered down into the tank, doing her best to climb back up the cables that connected the lift to the winch. Only a warning shot fired towards the floor of the tank had dissuaded her.

As she carefully climbed back down the wire, all was silent. When her feet touched ground, she was seen shouting something, but it took a while for the message to be passed around.

"What are you all staring at? Don't tell me none of you haven't made escape attempts."

Any attempt to talk to her over the next hour or so proved futile.

Around midday, Helen headed over to the glass.

"So, what do you guys think of our new arrival?"

"She's scary..." commented Mark.

"She's a bit aggressive," Evan said.

Helen nodded. "I had heard that she came in perfectly normal. I'm fairly certain that this radical personality shift hasn't worked in her favor. Can you talk to the Sandshrew over in the other tank? Ask him if he can get a good look at her."

Mark nodded, and headed over to the other end of the tank.

"Hey, Daryl. Our new arrival..."

Daryl picked himself up, and stood over by the side of the tank. "Hey, Mark. What do you need?"

"Check on the new girl. I think Helen might be worried about her."

Daryl nodded. "You seem concerned, too. I'll do it for you, but not for Helen."

"What do you two even have against each other, anyway?"

Daryl was silent for a moment, and then ignored the question. He moved over to the edge of the tank, and motioned for the Charmeleon to look his way. Mark saw her head move, but not her expression. Daryl, meanwhile, actually stumbled backwards, and fell. He crawled back over to Mark's tank, and turned around.

"Um, I think we need to worry more about what happens when she gets a roommate; she'll probably end up attacking the guy..."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't ask me to talk to her again. That was no ordinary angry look–that was cold, hard murder in her eyes."

Mark, unnerved by this, slowly crept back to Evan and Helen.

"Uh, she's alright? I guess?"

Evan chuckled and walked over to the edge of the tank. "What did you say?"

Daryl repeated himself. Evan slowly nodded. "I see."

He walked over to the other end and looked at Helen. "She'd better not get a roommate before she calms down…"

Silence for a few seconds, before Mark spoke.

"So. Um, Helen? Why exactly do you and Daryl dislike each other?"

Helen sighed. "You know that old saying about how you never start a conversation with religion or politics?"

Helen's roommate spoke up, and Helen nodded.

"Yeah, sometimes Sports end up there too, but that's not really relevant. Point is, not only did he try to start a political debate about our situation, he followed it up with acting all bitter when he couldn't defend his point."

There was really no way to continue a conversation after that, so after a while, Mark curled up to nap. As he did so, Evan sighed.

_How did you know Teleport so quickly?_ he asked Nick.

_I'm not sure. I just sort of... did. It's tough to explain, but I do it without thinking about it now..._

_Ah... You're lucky... I don't know how to use anything..._

_Eventually, you'll figure it out..._

_Yeah... I'm gonna practice a bit now._

Evan ignored whatever reply Nick had for him. He tried to focus on finding any sort of internal energy, concentrating it towards his hands. And then, suddenly, he found it. Something clicked in his head, and he began to focus his mind on his fist. As if on cue, he felt a buildup of energy. Grinning to himself, he pointed his hand at the ground, and released.

The result was a large flash, accompanied by a static blast.

The blast woke Mark up. "What was that!" he cried.

Evan stared at his hands in shock and pride.

"That, my friend, looked like a pulse of thunder."

Evan whirled around. Standing there was a man appearing to be in his mid-forties in a business suit.

"Who are you?" asked Evan.

"Victall Randolph."

Evan raised an eyebrow. "Didn't really answer my question..."

"All you really need to know is that Mutates in general have my sympathies. I've been away for the past couple of days; can I get your names?"

"Evan. He's Mark." He pointed at the Eevee hybrid in question.

"I see. Pleased to make your acquaintances."

"Same to you, I guess."

**Authors' Notes:** _YuseiDarkUmbreon:_ The next couple parts won't be as long, and will be uploaded in reverse. That means part V will be on this account, and part VI, if there is one, on my account. (For those of you on fanfiction's site, you'll just get it as one whole part.)

8


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